Lestrange Life
by redhead-saxophone
Summary: What happens to all the children of the Death Eaters? This story follows the life of Larissa Lestrange. Imagine Bellatrix had a child between HBP and DH, what would her life be like when she reached Hogwarts? Could she manage to overcome her past?


A/N: Yay, my first fanfic! And its Harry Potter to boot! Some staffing changes at Hogwarts. As you will notice, Flitwick has been promoted to deputy Headmaster, and Hogwarts got a new transfiguration teacher. ummm, ya not sure where the name came from, but its pronounced french, so it ends in (ee-eh) not (ee-er). comments are love! critique is cool.

"Lestrange, Larissa" Professor Flitwick called out clearly. A young girl, with raven hair and a face that promised exquisite beauty when she matured, stepped toward the three legged stool on the platform. She sat quietly, showing neither fear nor excitement. She could hear the whispers at her name, but she was used to that. Her parents were known mass murderers; whispers were nothing unusual.

There was a pause. Professor Flitwick lowered the Sorting Hat onto Larissa's head, the brim blocking the Great Hall from view. Larissa could hear the Hat's mutterings. "Good mind. Definitely brave. A hunger for validation and power, but not cruel. Aahhhh, but clever, very clever. Good at keeping secrets. Well that settles it. SLYTHERIN!" Larissa stood quickly from the stool and ran to the table surrounded by loudly cheering students, all with green and silver crests on their robes. Sitting down beside a rather wiry framed boy a year older than she, she gave a smile to the rest of the table, and turned to watch the rest of the sorting.

When the last of the first years had been placed in their houses, Headmaster McGonagall stood, her stern face softening only slightly as she addressed the students. "Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts. To those returning, welcome back! A few start of term notices. The large forest is out of bounds to all students. Mr. Filch has asked me to remind all students that any articles purchased at Weasley Wizard Wheezes are strictly prohibited, and will result in….."

Larissa stopped paying attention at that point, and sat quietly waiting for the feast to begin.

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"Calm down, sis, it'll all be alright." A tall, darkly handsome boy was leaning against the pillar, watching Larissa pace back and forth. "By Christmas, no one will think anything of the fact that you're a Lestrange."

"Easy for you to say, Marcus," Larissa shot back at her twin. "You're the one who was sorted into Gryffindor!" Finally sick of pounding around the abandoned hallway, Larissa sat down and leaned her head back against the wall. "Plus, you were blessed with good looks from the Black side of the family, while I was cursed with this face!"

"What are you talking about? You're beautiful sis," Marcus tried to reason with the enraged Larissa.

"Exactly," Larissa continued. "Beautiful like mother was beautiful. Dark hair like mother's, heavy lids like mother's, perfect figure like mother's. I'm just like our lunatic mother!" She screamed. "And now, I'm in Slytherin, just – like – mother!"

"Keep it down, will you!" Marcus pleaded. "Do you want us in detention?"

Larissa composed herself, stood, and faced her twin, all emotion wiped from her features. She was angry, she was beyond angry, but she refused to show it. "No, brother, I don't want you in trouble on account of me. In fact, you shouldn't even be here. What would the rest of the school think? Handsome Marcus Black comforting that evil little beauty, Larissa Lestrange, why it's positively scandalous. No, you changed your name to avoid trouble; I should never have thought to bring you down into this position. Thank you for your time, Marcus." She turned and was walking away before her brother could find his voice.

"Sis, wait! I didn't mean -"

"I don't think you should be broadcasting our relationship, Marcus. The Blacks may have a bad history, but most of the school knows about mother's cousin, Sirius. Lestrange, unfortunately, is a family name without a redeeming member. If you want to keep your anonymity," Larissa glanced over her shoulder, meeting her distraught brother's eye, "you should probably not speak to me." Larissa quickly turned on her heel and walked down the nearest flight of stairs. Making her way to the common room would be tricky, as she hadn't followed the prefects as they lead the other students. Finally, after many wrong turns, she reached the stretch of wall between the suites of armor, she sighed with relief. That is, until she realized that she didn't know the password. After running through as many possibilities as she could think of, she pounded her fist against the wall.

"Need a hand?" a voice from behind her offered. Larissa turned to see a third year with bleach blonde hair leaning against the wall opposite. She said nothing to accept or decline the offer, but returned the boys gaze coolly. "Lestrange, isn't it? My, my, but didn't you cause a stir when you were sorted. Not that I'm surprised at your placement, really." The boy walked past, bumping Larissa's shoulder. Larissa didn't acknowledge the nudge, and the boy didn't offer an apology. "By the way, the name is Malfoy. I'm sure you recognize it. Cyrus Malfoy. And yes," he said when he saw her head turn towards him, "We are related. Cousins, actually. I'm sorry we never met before this. My branch of the family lived in Norway, father taught at Durmstrang. But ever since Karkaroff got himself killed, the schools been closed. Apparently, they can't find anyone willing to teach in a school known for its sympathy towards the Dark Arts. Crucio." The bricks on the wall quickly began to shuffle, revealing an archway lit by torches. Cyrus looked back over his shoulder. "Well," he said, "are you coming or not?"

Larissa turned towards the boy, stepping passed him and giving him the same shoulder nudge that he had given her. He grinned as she continued down the hall. The girl was strong, no doubt there. A great asset to Slytherin.

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Larissa held her pillow over her face. It was late, very late, but the dark haired girl could not sleep for tears. She tried to silence her sobs so as not to wake the other girls in the room, but she could not get them to stop.

All her life, Larissa had been growing up in the care of a nursemaid. She had never known her mother, or father. They had been killed when she was only a baby. After that, she and her brother had been sent from family to family, never staying too long in one house, never getting close to the family that cared for them. Loneliness was a feeling Larissa was quite used to, but this was different. Everyone she had met, every Slytherin she had been introduced to, seemed to think exactly like that Malfoy boy; that she had sympathies lying in the direction of the Dark Arts, that she wanted the power that they provided. In truth, she didn't. She wanted power, oh yes, but never at another's expense. Her mother and father, twisted and evil though they were, were very powerful, and she knew that she would one day match their abilities, but without resorting to Dark Magic. She knew this in her heart, yet it did not comfort her. She was alone in her own house, and to make matters worse, her brother was not there to support her.

Finally able to understand what was causing her pain, Larissa unleashed a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they were comforting, rather than frustrating. She missed her brother. She wanted him to be there, to help her through this new ordeal. But he was in Gryffindor Tower, asleep, happy, with new friends and dreams that she, Larissa, wasn't a part of. Larissa lay in her bed, still crying, but as dawn stained the horizon, her tears gave way to dreams and she drifted into sleep.

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Larissa measured out the half teaspoon of powdered dragon scales and sprinkled it into her cauldron, smiling slightly when her solution turned a pale minty green. The Ravenclaw girl next to her glared at her, then looked down at her own vibrant, lime coloured potion.

"Look here, everyone. Miss Lestrange has done it! Well done my girl, well done indeed." Professor Slughorn patted Larissa on the back, and then glanced into the Ravenclaw's cauldron. "Oh, so very close, Miss Chang, very close indeed. Now lets see, yes I believe five points to Ravenclaw for such a close call, and twenty to Slytherin. Congratulations, both of you. Now everyone, don't forget to scrub your cauldrons well as you clean up. Any residue left will only cause problems in your later attempts in potions. Cheering potions are useful, but can wreak havoc on the effects of armadillo bile, which we will be using in our next class. Very well, clear up!"

In the shuffle to reach the sinks in the back of the classroom, Larissa could feel herself being bumped and elbowed. There was nothing that she could do, so she took the punishment. It wasn't anything serious, so ignoring it was probably the best course of action. She was the last one to finish scrubbing her cauldron, and she was hurrying as she left the room. Transfiguration was next, and she knew that Professor Tarrier was quite the stickler for punctuality. She was in such a rush that she ran right into the Gryffindor boy standing outside the classroom. She stepped back mumbling an apology and went to walk around him, but found her way blocked by a Ravenclaw. Looking up, she noticed that she was now surrounded by older students. She also noticed that none of them were Slytherin, with a heavier emphasis on Gryffindor red-and-gold crests than any other house.

"Larissa, darling, we were wondering if we could have a word with you. Just in here if you please." One of the Hufflepuff girls grabbed Larissa's arm and led her into an empty classroom.

Larissa shook off the Hufflepuffs hand, raised her chin and looked straight at her assailants. "I have transfiguration in five minutes. It's at the other end of the school. I need to leave now if I want to get there on time. I'm sure you all know what Professor Tarrier is like when it comes to tardiness." Larissa said clearly. She was outnumbered, surrounded, and at least a year younger than every last one of the students in the room with her, but she held herself as if she had the situation completely under control.

"You're not going anywhere until we get some answers." A Ravenclaw third year told her.

"Yeah, starting with what gave you the nerve to show your filthy Death Eater face at Hogwarts." A young Gryffindor boy added.

"Voldemort has been dead for ten years. His followers are dead or imprisoned, which means the term Death Eater is a little outdated. There are no more Death Eaters." Larissa shot back.

"Every single one of us has relatives that your parents saw fit to kill, maim, or torture." An older, calmer, Gryffindor girl began, ignoring Larissa's comment. "We were prepared to give you a chance, to see what you were like. We all know that you can't blame a child for the sins of the parents. But then we saw you, a bloody carbon copy of your murdering mum, and that worried us a little. Then you got yourself sorted into Slytherin, and that worried us more than a little." The girl began walking toward Larissa. "We want to know why you are here, where you are not welcome."

Larissa looked slowly around the room, meeting each pair of eyes. They were all so determined, so united, she could almost smile. Returning her eyes to the Gryffindor girl, she collected her thoughts.

"I didn't ask for my mother to be so evil." She began. "I never wanted to look so much like her and I never asked to be put in Slytherin House, either. But I am guilty on all counts. And I will not apologize," she shot a glance at one of the Ravenclaw girl, "not too anyone. I am proud of my house, nothing will change that. Many great wizards came out of Slytherin-"

"Great? Evil's more like it. Wasn't a wizard gone bad who wasn't in Slytherin" A Hufflepuff boy interrupted, and was met with agreements from all around Larissa.

"And Peter Petigrew? Forgive me if I am incorrect, but I believe he came from Gryffindor, did he not?" Larissa looked back at the Gryffindor girl, the apparent leader of the group. "Your house? The one who gave his very hand to return Voldemort to power. The one who betrayed his friends and sent Voldmort after them. He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he?"

"What are you suggesting?" the girl growled, moving within an inch of Larissa's face.

Larissa did not step back, or even acknowledge the extreme proximity of the girl. "I'm suggesting that every closet has its skeletons, and perhaps you should come to terms with your own before dragging mine out for the world to see." Larissa spoke quietly, though no one had any trouble hearing her in the silent classroom. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. When the door finally creaked open, it felt as if it released some sort of spell, allowing them all to breathe again. Unfortunately, the person opening the door only added to the tension.

"Blimey, what the hells going on here?" Cyrus exclaimed. "Larissa, you're alright aren't you? Do I need to teach these pests-"

"No, that's alright, Malfoy. I believe were done here." Larissa walked out of the classroom with her chin high, followed by Cyrus. Once they were out of sight, Larissa grabbed the front of Cyrus's robes and swung him into the wall, her face livid with white fury.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" She demanded

Cyrus looked shocked. "Ummm, rescuing you?" he responded tentatively.

Cyrus could feel the hand that held him against the wall shaking. "And do I look so helpless that you feel I need rescuing?" Larissa asked. "Do you think I can't defend myself? Do you think I need a meddling little git like you to protect me? I had everything under control. I was so close, so very close, to ending the hatred towards me once and for all and then you come blundering in and -"

"Good Lord, will you stop!" Cyrus shouted over Larissa's tirade. "God Bellatrix, just stop!"

Larissa instantly fell silent. "What did you call me?" she whispered, all traces of her anger gone. Cyrus could feel the hand holding him to the wall relax, but it did not release him.

Cyrus looked Larissa in the eye. "I called you Bellatrix," he whispered back. "When I was three, I spent the summer with my grandparents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Great Aunt Bellatrix was there as well. I remember her yelling at a house elf, yelling like you were just then. I'm sorry for calling you that and bringing up bad memories, but by god girl, it was like Bellatrix had returned from the grave!"

Larissa stepped back from Cyrus, horror plastered all over her young face. "Larissa," Cyrus started, but Larissa had turned and was running as fast as she could in the other direction.


End file.
